Dust To Dust
by McGeekle
Summary: Tony is kidnapped, and he's sure this time no one is coming to his rescue. "You have been in this position before, Agent DiNozzo?" "Couple times. The last accommodations were much nicer though. Warm, airy, bright. A little less toxic mold in the air and a little more dust. And don't get me started on the chair."


Black. That's all he could see when he woke. Despite the fact that his head was swimming, probably from a concussion judging by the splitting pain at the back of his head, he became acutely aware of the blindfold he wore, and zip ties around his wrists and ankles which were anchoring him to a very uncomfortable chair. He let out an inaudible sigh. He'd been kidnapped. Great.

He couldn't see a damn thing with the blindfold on, but with the state of his head, he'd be surprised if he could make any valid observations anyway. He sat in the silence only solitary captivity could provide, trying to learn anything he could about his temporary prison.

The air was damp and cold, with the lingering smell of dirt and mold. He could hear faint street noise in the distance, but it was muffled, which probably meant no windows. He clenched his jaw in frustration. He could only hope that Gibbs knew more about his prison than he did.

"I am pleased to see you are awake, Agent DiNozzo." An accented voice said from his 2 o clock. "For some time I was afraid that the sedative was too strong for you to take."

He sighed, his shield immediately coming up. "Why is it that every time I'm tied to a chair by a terrorist bastard all he wants to do is shoot me up with crap?"

"You have been in this position before, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Couple times. The last accommodations were much nicer though. Warm, airy, bright. A little less toxic mold in the air and a little more dust. And don't get me started on the chair."

"Well then, with your prior experience, you should know some of what I have in store for you."

Tony shrugged, nose twitching as he thought. "I guess so. Lack of vision is making this confrontation a little less impactful than the last. No menacing glares, no imposing stance."

He felt the cool hardness of a blade against his throat. "Yeah I remember this part."

"Agent DiNozzo, you will tell me everything you know about NCIS. How much they know of my operation, what they would be willing to do to get you back, and then, if you are lucky, I may let you live."

"This must be the party line. You guys should come up with something a little more original."

"I do not think it is necessary if the words are true." Tony felt a needle make it's way into his arm and he winced despite his best efforts to the contrary. He felt the drug flood his veins and knew he would have some trouble resisting it's effects. It felt different from Saleem's truth serum, but he could feel his body grow slightly numb, and he could hear a buzzing in his ears. Everything in the room was louder, and he broke into a sweat despite the dank, dark room.

"Now, Agent DiNozzo, you will tell me everything you know. What does NCIS know of my operation?"

"That would be a much easier question if I knew who the hell you were."

Instantly the blindfold was roughly ripped off of his head, revealing the sinister eyes of Benim Parsa.

"Now, remind me, who are you?" Tony asked.

"You know who I am, Agent DiNozzo."

"I don't think I do. You know I do have other terrorists to worry about. Do you think you could have just slipped under the radar?"

"I doubt if Agent Gibbs were here he would say the same."

"I dunno. His vision is going. Memory's probably getting shaky too, old age and whatnot."

"If Agent Gibbs does't remember me, perhaps former Agent David will. She had quite the run in with some of my men if I recall."

"Beat the shit out of your men if _I_ recall."

"I doubt that would be the case this time around." Tony's entire body tensed. Parsa smiled menacingly.

"Now that you understand the consequences, I will leave you to contemplate your answer."

Tony clenched his jaw in frustration, knowing he'd given Parsa all the power, but stared him down.

Parsa merely chuckled, walking away from his captive and slamming the door behind him.

—

Tony shivered, twitching his nose in thought. Whatever crap Parsa injected him with had only grown stronger with time, and he was sweating profusely despite the cool room. His vision was blurred, and his body was practically vibrating from the tension in his muscles. He didn't even want to spare a guess at how long he'd been tied to the damn chair.

The door banged open again, hitting the wall behind it with a crash. He startled in earnest, the sound reverberating throughout the small room.

"Have you given my questions any thought, Agent DiNozzo?"

"You know…I'm actually having a little bit of trouble in that area. What was the question again?"

Parsa's fist slammed into his jaw. Tony groaned.

"Your arrogance does not serve you well."

"Believe it or not you're not the first person to tell me that."

"I am not surprised."

"Just one more thing you terrorist bastards have in common."

"You keep using this word, terrorist."

"If the boot fits."

Parsa smirked.

"Tell me what I want to know, Agent DiNozzo."

"No."

A blow to the stomach landed true, knocking the wind out of him.

"I can do this all day," Parsa said, sounding almost bored at the prospect.

"So can I," Tony wheezed out.

Another blow to the jaw.

"I doubt that."

"Then you're underestimating me. It's alright, most people do. Part of my charm, I guess."

"I believe charm is subjective."

"I know a handful of ladies that would disagree with that statement."

Parsa shook his head, clicking his tongue in distaste. "You can stall all you want, Agent DiNozzo. No one is coming for you. No one is going to find you."

"See, now you're underestimating Gibbs. And that's gonna be the biggest mistake of your life." Parsa landed another blow to his cheekbone. He'd be surprised if it didn't crack. Parsa leaned down, getting right in his face.

"What makes you think he is not the one underestimating me, hmmm?"

"You know, maybe he is. Maybe next to the members of Al Quaeda, the terrorist cell that held my partner captive for months, the best cyberterrorist in the world, russian mobsters, international arms dealers, and the biggest drug dealer in Mexico, you don't even register as a blip on his bad guy radar."

"Then he would be the one making the mistake." Parsa pushed off the arms of the chair, backing away from him. "Stop hoping. No one is coming for you."

Parsa lunged forward, his aim true. One final blow to the head, and he succumbed to the darkness.

—-

Drug. Fists. Knife. The feel of his own blood running down his arms, his legs. He would not crack. Again, the lights went out.

—-

The pattern repeated. Over and over and over again. Tony had no way of telling how long he'd actually been in the hellhole. It could have been hours, or days. Judging by how hungry he was, it must have been a day or two already, but he spent the majority of his time unconscious. In a room with no windows, there was little he could do to keep track of time. He started to think maybe Parsa was right. Maybe Gibbs wouldn't find him this time. Maybe he was really out of almosts. He squirmed in his chair, trying to relieve the ache that had settled in his bones, but to no avail. There was nowhere to go. He could only wait. Whether to live or die, he wasn't sure.

—

"I've found that you are no longer of any use to me, Agent DiNozzo." Parsa said as he barged through the door.

"Really? I've been so helpful," he slurred. Immediately he was met with a backhanded slap.

"I do not have time for your stubborn pride."

Tony didn't even get another word in before he felt the needle pierce his skin. Immediately he knew something was different this time. As soon as the drug entered his system he could feel it inside, crawling under his skin. Like thousands of tiny bugs spreading like fire through his veins. He grunted against the sensation rushing through him, hoping to will it away. He twitched against his will, his neck rolling on it's on accord. The itch to rip his own skin off was overwhelming his senses. Seconds later, his body collapsed into uncontrollable spasms. He fought against his restraints, each movement causing shooting pains all over. His body jerked violently, and he heard a sickening snap. The pain was overwhelming but he couldn't even tell where it was coming from. He fought the urge to cry out, but he soon found that he couldn't even if he wanted to. His jaw was clenched shut. He tried to focus on the smirking figure in the corner, to at least see the face of his captor. He heard the bastard chuckle darkly as he watched him struggle. It was all too quickly and not quickly enough that he faded into unconsciousness. He looked around for any signs of rescue in vain. There were no gunshots, no squealing tires, no signs at all the the cavalry would come. He sent up a prayer to whomever might be listening that they find him, before slipping away.

—-

He woke an undeterminable time later. The world was fuzzy, that he knew. And the blackness that he'd become so familiar with was only creeping into the edges of his vision. The rest of the world was warm, and harshly white. He wondered for a moment if he was dead, but he figured if he was in heaven, he wouldn't be in nearly as much pain. He groaned, noise entirely foreign to his ears. He saw a flash of movement, heard a muffled voice. There was a warm hand in his, shaki He tried to reach toward it, but he was weighed down, his body was too heavy to try to move. The darkness was drawing him back in, the blackness at the edges of his vision was closing in, eating the remnants of light. Too tired to fight, he allowed himself to fall back into painless bliss of unconsciousness.

—-

The next time he woke it was by electric shock. The jolt pulsed through his body, shocking him awake. His eyes flew open, wild in panic as he searched for anything to take his pain away. There were machines beeping wildly all around him, chaos overwhelming his senses. He choked violently around the tube down his throat, coughing and sputtering as he fought to breathe. He flailed as much as his body would allow. Pain was shooting through him as he struggled to gain some sense of control. And then there was her. _Ziva_. She took his face in her hands, ceasing his movement to the best of her ability.

"Tony. Tony, look at me." she commanded. He met her eyes immediately.

"You must calm down. They need to take the tube out, but you could hurt yourself if you resist." The wild look of panic in his eyes faded slightly, and she nodded.

"Good. That's good." She nodded to the doctor to her left.

"Alright Agent DiNozzo, I need you to breathe out for me. One big breath. We're going to take the tube out on three."

He could feel Ziva's hand in his. She gently squeezed in reassurance as the doctor pulled out the breathing tube. He coughed as the tube left his throat, leaving it raw and aching. Seconds later there was a straw inserted into his mouth, and Ziva prompted him to drink.

He drank greedily, inhaling as much as he possibly could before drawing back with a gasp.

"Did you get him?" he asked Ziva.

"Yes, they did. He is dead."

"What happened?" he asked.

"Gibbs and McGee found you unconscious in the chair you were bound to in the basement of an abandoned house in Georgetown. You had been given a large dose of a drug cocktail, and were beaten severely."

"Yeah, I remember." he grumbled.

"You have fractured ribs, a broken wrist, and a severe concussion."

"I think I'm missing a tooth," he tossed in.

"You have been in a coma for almost a week."

"How long did he have me?"

"Four days," she said tenderly.

"Four days. And I've been in a coma for a week."

She nodded solemnly. "The concussion and the drugs were not a good combination, I'm afraid."

He nodded, eyes blinking lazily. "No wonder I feel like shit."

He was drifting back into sleep, the short interaction getting the better of him.

"Sleep now, Tony."

"No, you just got here."

"I have been for several days. I can wait a few more hours while you get some rest."

"Wait..why are you here?"

"We will talk about it when you wake up."

He looked hesitant, even in his drowsy state.

"I will be here when you wake up, I promise." She squeezed his hand gently, and it was enough to reassure him of her presence. Slowly, he slipped back into sleep.

—-

"You're here."

Ziva looked up from her book when she heard his drowsy words. "I promised I would be."

"No, I mean…you're really _here_."

"Yes. I am." She said with a small smile. She crossed the small space between them, standing next to his bed and taking his hand.

"Why? Boss call you and tell you that bastard had me?"

"No. I came home because I wanted to surprise you. So I snuck into your building and waited for you in your apartment."

"Still using those ninja skills for good, I see."

She shrugged. "I waited, but you did not come home. I went to see Gibbs, hoping he would know where you were, but he said that he had left the office before you. We found your car in the parking lot at NCIS. It was then that we learned that you had been taken."

"Well Ninja, We've never been great at timing, but this time yours was impeccable."

"I thought that meant that my timing was bad?"

"I can't think of a better word. So for now it can just mean awesome. Awesome is a better word."

She smiled.

"So what happens now?" he asked, traces of hope in his voice.

"Well, I will be here for a short while, so I can help you recuperate, and then I will go back to Israel."

His face fell. He'd have to say goodbye to her again.

"It will be easier to gather my things in person."

"What do you mean?" he asked abruptly.

"I do not like the idea of other people touching my things, so I will have to go back and…"

"And then you'll come back here?" he asked, excitement rising.

"Yes," She said with a smile. "Then I will come back home."

"Home?"

"Home." she nodded.

Excitement in his chest and serious matters aside, he took to teasing her. "I'm a handful. Are you sure you can handle me?"

"More than a handful, if I recall," she said slyly.

"Miss David, it's not fair to tease me when I'm in a hospital bed."

"You will not be in it for long. And then I am sure it will be you having trouble handling me."

He groaned at even the thought. She smiled down at him, her expression tender and caring.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He had to ask.

She shrugged, but nodded gently. "Someone has to look after you."

"You up for the challenge?"

She leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I certainly am."


End file.
